“You think you’re going to grow up, and have a job, and raise your family and that’s it. And it’s just not that simple, is it?” I say. “It’s really hard, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” she says.
“I never feel like a grownup,” I add. “I feel like we’re always struggling to keep things together and we shouldn’t be.”
“We all feel that way,” she says. We part ways. I stagger along the mall, dragging my kids.
“Oh, my,” says a passing woman, elderly, with gentle eyes. “What gorgeous girls.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“God bless you,” she whispers. And she means it, and I am undone.